


A letter to you

by Sipsthytea



Series: Best bois Billy and Steve [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Bonding, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Fluff, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Love Letters, M/M, Max ships it, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Mutual Pining, Steve Harrington Fluff, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington-centric, and same, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sipsthytea/pseuds/Sipsthytea
Summary: He reached for a pen before his eye spotted something. In the corner of his eye, a letter.‘To Steve,’ It read in neat handwriting.His eyes widened and he began to reach for it, but something stopped him a small voice nagging him, screaming that this was invasion of Billy’s privacy, his trust.But then again, Steve was never good at following his common sense.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair
Series: Best bois Billy and Steve [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686469
Comments: 1
Kudos: 109





	A letter to you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read. :)
> 
> I really wanted to write some fluff for my boys, and a lot of you guys wanted it too, so, here you are!!
> 
> I am in need of a beta reader, so, if you’re interested or know someone who is. Please comment down below💕
> 
> (ps: Listen to “Fly me to the moon” while reading, you’ll see why)
> 
> ENJOY!! :)

Surprisingly, Billy Hargrove loved English. He loved to write, the Californian had first copies of classics like Shakespeare, Odysseus, Edgar Allen Poe, and his favorite: Oscar Wilde. You could find him holed up in a corner, pen in hand, scribbling away.

It contrasted with the harsh roughness he portrayed to the outside world, the cigarette smoking bad boy with a bad attitude. They expected him to be an idiot with a permanent smirk, and while he was in fact an idiot, Billy Hargrove wasn’t stupid. He was smart, test scores placing him in the top ten percent of his high school class, despite how much school he missed.

There was more to Billy that jean jackets and cigarettes, more to him than one-night stands and anger.

Steve Harrington found this out the hard way.

*****

Steve became a regular fixture at the Hargrove household.

He was often left in charge of watching Max, however, most of the time, Billy was at work or off somewhere else. Him and Steve rarely saw one another. And when they did it was awkward, memories of their one-sided rivalry surfacing.

Steve did his best, cracking jokes and offering peace in smiles and waves. Billy was a little more reserved, offering him the occasional chuckle and smirk, but nothing more.

And for some reason, Steve wanted more.

He needed more.

His opportunity presented itself in the form of Max shyly shuffling up to him, cheeks red with embarrassment, hands fidgeting at her side, “I-I wanna go on a date with Lucas,” she mumbled.

Steve smiled at her, warmth spreading through him, “Ok, and? What do you need me to do?”

She looked away, “Convince Billy…”

Steve sighed, but affectionately ruffled her hair, standing, “Ok, Mad Max, I’ll do my best.”

She lit up, eyes sparkling, “Really?”

He scoffed, “Yeah, but I said ‘try’, your brother doesn’t exactly like me.”

She opened her mouth to say something but snapped it shut, a smirk pulling on her lips, eyes glinting with mischief, “Whatever you say, Steve.”

He looked at her, eyebrows drawn high, ‘Now what was she hiding?’

Now, here he was, sucking in a deep breath, hands shaking.

‘Here goes nothing.’

“Billy,” He called, as he watched the blonde walk through the door.

The Californian turned, eyes searching Steve, a hum leaving his lips.

“So,” the brunette pitched, standing from the couch, “A thing popped up, n-not a bad thing…but well, something popped up?”

Billy’s face contorted in confusion, arms crossing in front of him, “Get on with it, will you?”

Gulping, Steve rushed out, “Well, Max really wants to go on a date, and she asked me to ask you, and I really think that you should, you know? So, what do you say?”

Billy eyed him, slight anger flashing across his face, “No, absolutely not.” He waked away, headed straight to Max’s room.

Steve scrambled after him, “W-What? Why?”

“No, definitely not. She wants to date that Sinclair kid, hell fucking no!” He threw open her door, eyes scanning the room, and spun on his heel, hands flying up to grab Steve’s collar, “Where the hell is, she?”

“Already gone.”

“You bastard,” he marched to the door, fishing his keys from where he’d thrown them, but Steve snatched them up. Holding them behind his back, a hand in front of him.

“Why not? Why can’t she go on a date?” He demanded, shuffling away from Billy’s angry posture.

“Because I said no, why the hell would you let her?!”

“Because she’s a teenager, she should be allowed to go on dates, to have fun!” He explained, crawling over the couch and dodging Billy’s advances, pushing away the blonde as he tried to reach for his keys.

“Yeah, well, you can decide that when you become her brother,” he hissed, gripping Steve’s collar and pinning him down with his body, throwing his weight against him.

“Your right – ow! But you need to let her have freedom,” He gasped. Flinching away as Billy pinched his sides.

“Let her have the childhood you couldn’t,” the struggling stopped, and Billy went still, back tensing. Steve shut his eyes, quickly preparing for the smack that was sure to come, but it never did. Instead, he heard the plop of a body beside him.

“Your right,” he sighed, hand scraping his face, “She’s old enough to take care of herself.”

Guilt filled Steve, and he reached over for Billy, “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up your childhood like that, it was wrong- “

A dismissive hand cut him off, “Nah, you’re ok. You’re also right.”

“I-I am?”

“Yeah, I need to let her live her life,” he huffed, shuffling a little as he stood.

“I’ll be in my room,” he muttered, voice dull.

Steve watched him walk away, a blush spreading across his cheeks. Although that could be handled better, it wasn’t terrible, he didn’t get sucker punched!

A small victory, but a victory none the less.

Their interactions blossomed from there, becoming more friendly in nature. Soon enough, Steve dared that him and Billy became friends. Often bonding over their shared love for films or cars. Billy spilling that he’s never been a big music fan, only choosing to listen to a few heavy metal bands. And Steve expressed his hatred for reading, they offered each other recommendations and ended up loving it.

Slowly, Steve found himself becoming more endeared with the slightly nerdy side of Billy, the way he gushed over novels and others or bashed forms of writing. It was all so cute. And of course, he found himself falling for the Californian.

He fell for the shy smiles and the stories of beaches and waves. He fell for the sea blue eyes that hid sadness and regret. He fell for Billy Hargrove, fell for the curls in his hair, the smile on his lips, the playfulness in his eyes. He fell like an idiot.

Max teased him endlessly about it, wiggling her eyebrows every time Billy arrived home from work. That same knowing glint in her eyes, she knew something. He was so sure of it.

It all came to a head one day when he was alone with Max, boredom was picking at him. Tugging at his limbs, begging him to do something.

‘Maybe, I should try writing,’ he thought, rising to his feet and shuffling around to find a pen and paper, ‘Billy seems to enjoy it.’

It was true, the blonde was always invested in his writing, when they weren’t engaged in conversation, just enjoying each other’s presence, Steve would catch him scribbling down words on a piece of paper.

He clicked his teeth, turning over the cushions to find a pen, coming up empty. Seriously, in this whole damn house there isn’t a single pen?

A thought struck him, ‘Billy must have one, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I just borrowed one.’

He strode into the Billy’s room, gently pushing the door open and peering inside. It was clean, not excessively, but clean enough. Clothing was piled up neatly in a corner, his iconic jean jacket hanging on a chair at his desk. On one side of his room a bookshelf was littered with books, some were first copies, his mom gifted those to him. Steve’s heart ached that memory, Billy had confessed that his love of reading came from his mother. She was a teacher, and her favorite subject was English. Most of these books were his mother’s before they became his.

He treasured those books; they were the center of his life.

Steve smiled fondly before remembering his purpose, and he walked towards the desk. It was littered with paper and pens, great.

He reached for a pen before his eye spotted something. In the corner of his eye, a letter.

‘To Steve,’ It read in neat handwriting.

His eyes widened and he began to reach for it, but something stopped him a small voice nagging him, screaming that this was invasion of Billy’s privacy, his trust.

But then again, Steve was never good at following his common sense.

Against his better judgment me carefully tore at the seal, slipping the notebook paper out. It wasn’t a long letter, something short and curt.

“Steve.

I’m an asshole, that much is clear, but you make me want to be better. You make me better. We aren’t friends, but I want to be, I’ve always wanted to be. I admired you, from far before I forced myself to hate you. You were the one good thing in this shitty ass town and I almost destroyed you, but I didn’t. And you don’t hate me, that confuses the shit out of me.

How can someone like you not hate someone like me? I made it my job to make your life hell, I was mean and rude. And yet, you still look at me with kindness and respect, you are sunshine, and I want to see more of it.”

Steve’s eyes widened, hand coming up to cup at his mouth, was this…was this how Billy felt? He quickly placed the letter back, hands shaking, pulse racing.

As he’s backing away, he bumps into an open drawer. Carefully, he peers inside. A gasp slipping past his lips, there are more letters. There is an entire drawer full of them, folded pieces of paper titled ‘Steve.’

He reaches in, scooping all the letters in his hand, and walks to Billy’s bed, he carefully reads through them. Hands shaking and eyes watering as he reads the rawest ones and the worst ones. Taking in the smallest mistakes and the lines passing though sentences with angry scribbles on the side. It makes his heart flutter.

“Fly me to the moon  
Let me play among the stars  
Let me see what spring is like  
On Jupiter and Mars  
In other words, hold my hand  
In other words, darling, kiss me  
Fill my life with song  
And let me sing for ever more  
You are all I long for  
All I worship and adore  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, I love you  
Fly me to the moon  
Let me play among the stars  
Let me see what spring is like  
On Jupiter and Mars  
In other words, hold my hand  
In other words, darling, kiss me  
Fill my life with song  
Let me sing for ever more  
All I worship and adore  
You are all I long for  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, in other words  
I love you.”

By the time he was done reading them, tears were streaming down his face. Guilt pooling in his stomach, he’d just looked into Billy’s heart, into Billy’s soul.

But his soul was beautiful and hurt, it was kind and shy, it was insecure and unsure. He was so wrapped up in his tears and reading that when Billy walked in, he didn’t notice.

“STEVE! What the fuck?!” He demanded, eyes widening, blush spreading across his cheeks. However, he froze, eyes meeting Steve’s tears-soaked face.

“A-Are you ok?”

Wordlessly, Steve drew himself up, letting the letters and poems scatter around him, he walked up to Billy. With careful, quaking hands, he cupped the blonde’s cheeks, running his thumb over his cheek, eyes searching those wide blue oceans.

He pressed their lips together, a soft chaste kiss. Gently, he slipped his hands down to Billy’s neck, pulling him closer. His lips faltered slightly when Billy didn’t respond, dread filling him. As he began to pull away, a strong hand pressed against his back, fingers digging into his spine.

“Please don’t go,” Billy whispered, blue eyes open and raw.

“I won’t,” Steve promised, “I won’t, Billy.”

He pressed forward, connecting their lips, connecting their souls.

****

“So why didn’t you just give me the letters?”

“None of them were good enough…”

“GOOD ENOUGH! THEY MADE ME CRY, DUMBASS!”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, I had a fun writing this, it is one of my favorite works:)
> 
> Thank you for reading, don’t be afraid to leave me a comment about what you’d like to read, thoughts, or corrections. 
> 
> Thanks :))


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